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 in Europe since I was a child, yet I still keep meeting the Rhone in unexpected places. . . Here's Flossie," he added in relief as the princess came heaving into view like a ship whose ballast had slightly shifted. She was a jolly creature with pink cheeks and fluffy yellow hair, too yellow. Clad in pale blue tulle, with many pearls, she looked like a gigantic bon-bon.

"You are superb, Madame," said Léon.

"I begin dieting again next week," said Floss. "If I keep on growing I might get ashamed of myself. . . Go pour yourself a drink, honey," she said to Grover, giving him a hospitable shove. "Bring mother a little ruin, too," she added. "We're going to dance pretty soon. Some wonderful coons are coming to play. . . Only I got to let Mamie get a song off her chest first, God help us. Hey, Mamie!"

A tall girl in a soiled mustard-colored frock came slinking toward them in response to the Princess' yell, and Grover was presented to Mamie Mangum, alias Mignon Mangini. All he could say for her face was that unlike Helen of Troy's, Mamie's would never launch a thousand ships. She had eyes which she herself would doubtless have thought of as intense: to Grover they goggled. Her lower lip shot forward at the expense of her chin, and she made horrid little pushing sounds with her nose. Her fingernails were dirty but red and highly polished, and her mouth was twisted into 'an enigmatic smile that she had copied